


A Funn Halloween

by shella688



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Autistic Rudyard, Gen, Halloween, also Antigone but she shows up less so it's less relevant, please someone get Rudyard some coffee, the narration swings wildly between '3rd person' and '3rd person but it's Madeline'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shella688/pseuds/shella688
Summary: Eric Chapman's hosting a Halloween party, and the Funns are determined to show up. Only problem is, doing Halloween costumes ishard
Relationships: Antigone Funn & Rudyard Funn & Georgie Crusoe, there is SOMETHING going on with Rudyard and Eric but hell if I know what
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	A Funn Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> So first everyone go have a look at [this art](https://twitter.com/piratesleeves/status/1312834644883189766) because I love it

Rudyard Funn is the owner of Piffling Vale's second-most successful funeral parlour. He thinks the most terrifying thing to see is Antigone in the mornings.

He'll soon find out he was very, very wrong.

* * *

  
  


Rudyard took a sip of hot water and pretended it was coffee.

"Antigone, we need Halloween costumes."

No response.

"Antigone? Antigone are you.. pinching yourself?"

His sister looked up from where she had, in fact, been pinching herself.

"I'm not dreaming am I?"

"No?"

"And you haven't been replaced by a tall, dark, handsome stranger who plans to spirit me away to a better life somewhere?"

"I resent the implications of that statement-"

" _ You hate Halloween! _ "

Rudyard paused, mug halfway to his mouth. Then he nodded, slowly and reluctantly. He  _ did  _ hate Halloween - he hated having to get dressed up, he hated everyone  _ else  _ getting dressed up, he hated those "fun sized" sweets that were so small it would more accurate to call them "sad sized".

He sighed.

"Chpmn 's dun smmth," he mumbled, not meeting Antigone's eyes. Well- he never really made eye contact anyway, but now he was  _ intentionally  _ not looking at her.

"Rudyard…" Antigone began warningly.

"Chapman's doing something for it," Rudyard muttered to the table.

"I still can't hear you."

" **Chapman's doing a Halloween thing tonight and if we want to go we're going to need costumes!** " he burst out, slamming the mug down on the table then yelping in alarm as water sloshed over the side. "You made me spill my coffee," he said sadly, staring at the wet patch.

"It's water!"

"It was coffee in my heart!"

Antigone was about to snipe something back, but all at once she was interrupted by the ringing of the bell above their door. She spun around, exasperated.

And in marched a tall stack of cardboard boxes.

Well, the boxes had a pair of legs sticking out the bottom, so there was  _ probably  _ someone carrying them.

"Now look here-"

"Only me sir," came Georgie's voice from somewhere behind the boxes. She dropped them all on the floor with a loud  _ thud,  _ then surveyed her box stack proudly.

"There we go!"

Rudyard poked the boxes warily. When nothing jumped out of them, he noticeably relaxed.

"Why do you have all these boxes, Georgie?"

"Chapman's Halloween party," she said, like that explained everything. The Funns just stared at her blankly.

"Chapman's doing a Halloween party, isn't he? And I need a costume, so all  _ this, _ " she waved a hand at the boxes, "is what I need to make one. I'm  _ great  _ at making Halloween costumes."

"But you don't even like Chapman," Antigone pointed out.

"So I need to make a better costume than him, don't I?" Georgie sounded genuinely angry at the prospect of getting one-upped by whatever Chapman might have planned.

For a few moments, there was an awkward pause.

Rudyard cleared his throat nervously.

"Georgie-"

"What?"

"Since you're good at costumes-"

"I'm not just 'good', I'm  _ great. _ "

"Yes anyway, would you help me and Antigone with  _ our  _ costumes?"

Georgie blinked.

"You're going to Chapman's?"

"Well, yes-"

" _ You're  _ going to Chapman's?"

"I thought maybe-"

"Antigone?"

She jumped.

"I'm innocent!'

"Not what I asked." Georgie paused, surveying the Funns with a critical eye. For all her disbelief, she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to design more costumes. "Antigone, you first, stand up."

Antigone did so without complaining, then looked confused as to why she wasn't complaining more. Georgie circled her, first holding out a thumb to take rough measurements, then comparing their heights and arm lengths.

At last, she spoke.

"You'd make a  _ great  _ ghost."

"A ghost?" Antigone spluttered. "I can't just go as a ghost, that's ridiculous! I can't show up to Chapman's with a sheet over my head!"

"Why not?"

Antigone mumbled something, which Georgie pointedly ignored as she spun to face Rudyard.

"Right, Rudyard, up you get."

"Ah-" He shook his head rapidly, backing towards the door. "Thank you but no thank you-"

"You  _ asked  _ for my help!"

"I thought you'd suggest more than just cutting eyeholes in a sheet!"

Georgie rolled her eyes as the door slammed shut behind Rudyard's hurried exit.

"Help me open these boxes will you? This vampire outfit needs to be  _ perfect  _ by tonight."

* * *

  
  


Rudyard wandered around the town, desperately trying to think of anything better than putting a sheet over his head and calling it a day. He circled the fountain once, twice, three times, each revolution sapping the hope from him.

He wandered up and down alleyways, in case inspiration was lurking in the shadows there. He read the graffiti the Village Hoodlums had left on the bus shelter. He even kicked apart a few leaf piles to see if any ideas were hiding there.

Nothing.

Poor Rudyard! It was looking more and more like he and Antigone would have to go as matching sheets!

He moped back into the square, when all of a sudden his thoughts were interrupted by-

"Morning Rudyard!" Eric called. He was stood at the top of a ladder, putting the finishing touches on his Halloween decorations.

"Will I be seeing you at the party tonight?"

Rudyard didn't respond. He was just staring at Eric, a plan slowly forming in his mind.

"Rudyard? Are you quite alright?"

"Oh I am now," he replied dreamily, still lost in thought. "Yes… yes I'm sure you'll see me tonight."

He spun to head back towards the Funn Funeral Home but misjudged and spun too far, and had to spin back slightly to face the right direction.

"Enjoy yourself!"

Eric stared agape at Rudyard's retreating form.

"That's my line…"

* * *

  
  


That night, the party was in full swing, with the whole island in attendance. The Reverend and the Mayor had done a couple's costume, and were dressed as salt and pepper shakers. Agatha Doyle had shown up as Fred from Scooby Doo. Even the Village Hoodlums were there, protesting the commercialisation of a traditional pagan festival but also eagerly explaining to anyone who asked that the three of them were dressed as Guinevere, Lancelot, and Arthur Pendragon.

And there were Georgie and Antigone.

Georgie's vampire costume lived up to all expectations. Her shirt was suitably ruffled and billowy, her cape was long and swishy, and her fake fangs were wickedly sharp.

Antigone stood by her side, draped in a sheet that had two eyeholes cut out of it.

"Remember the plan?" Georgie asked.

Antigone nodded, possibly. It was hard to tell.

"Go in, try and enjoy myself, don't be afraid to talk to people, don't eat the quiche."

Georgie clapped her on the shoulder.

"You'll do great! Keep an eye out for Rudyard too, I haven’t seen him since this morning."

And then, with a swish of her cape, she was gone, vanishing off into the depths of the party.

Antigone took a deep breath. It was fine, this was fine, she could do this. All she had to do was keep out of the way of any dancing, and see if she could see-

Was that Rudyard? There- over by the drink's table. He hadn't even shown up in a costume! He was just wearing the same black suit he always wore.

"Rudyard!" she called, pushing her way through the crowd. Her progression was slowed somewhat by her apologising to everyone she pushed past.

"Rudyard!"

Rudyard turned towards the sound of her voice, and Antigone stopped dead. Because that person wearing Rudyard's clothes  _ wasn't  _ her brother.

"Evening Antigone!" said Chapman.

It took a few moments for Antigone to organise her thoughts.

"Eric? Why are you wearing… that?"

He shifted slightly uncomfortably.

"Well, I was hoping to shock Rudyard with it, but I haven't actually seen him yet and looking back the whole thing seems a bit mean actually."

Antigone gaped at him. She stammered out a few baffled sounds, but failed at making a coherent sentence. Eric? Dressed as Rudyard?  _ Eric?  _ God she hoped Rudyard wasn't going to show up-

" **BOO!** " went someone right by her shoulder.

"ARGH!" shouted Eric and Antigone in unison.

Then Antigone paused, staring at the newcomer.

"...Rudyard?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hello Antigone! Chapman."

The other two took in his outfit - his brown loafers, his beige trousers, his white shirt, the blue jumper tied around his neck.

An awful realisation was forming in Antigone's mind.

"You're dressed as E-"

"The devil!" he interrupted, without missing a beat.

"I'm right here you know," Eric said, frowning. 

"I know." Rudyard sounded impossibly smug about it. Then his brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait- you're dressed as-"

Eric sighed.

"Yes, yes I am."

Antigone looked between Eric and her brother, and decided that she really,  _ really,  _ didn't need to be present for this.

"I'm… going to look for Georgie…" she said, motioning towards the crowd in general and not waiting for a response as she made her escape.

A long silence stretched out in her absence. A very long silence indeed.

Eric shuffled on the spot.

Rudyard cleared his throat.

Eric fiddled with a loose button.

Rudyard rocked back and forth on his feet.

"So-" they both said at the same time.

"You go first-"

"No no you go-"

"No I insist-"

"Eric."

"Rudyard?"

He didn't respond, instead just making a 'you go first' gesture at Eric.

"Can I," Eric began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "Can I interest you in some punch?"

Rudyard startled to attention.

"You're going to punch me?"

"No, no I meant the drink!"

He frowned, brows furrowed.

"You're going to punch the drink?"

"What? No! I-"

Eric sighed. When he spoke, he sounded pained.

"How about we never speak of this again?

Rudyard hummed as he considered this preposition.

"Give us your kettle too and it's a deal."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr! [regicidal-defenestration](https://regicidal-defenestration.tumblr.com/)


End file.
